Reply to the Wife of Gyōbu Saemon-no-jō Chapter2

I, Nichiren, would observe now that in my opinion this sutra passage states the case correctly. There is no need at this late date to emphasize how great is the debt one owes to one’s father and mother. But I would like to stress that the debt to one’s mother is particularly important and worthy to be taken to heart.

When we observe how even the birds on the wing nourish their young, how even the beasts that range the fields take thought for their offspring, our eyes turn aside in amazement and we are lost in wonder. In particular, we should recall the debt of gratitude we owe our mother because of the pains she suffers during the nine months when the child is in the womb. At that time her belly is swelled as tight as a drum and her neck looks like a needle. Her breath comes in pants, she can barely breathe in, and her complexion is the color of withered grass. When she lies down, her belly seems about to split apart; when she sits up, she can find no restful position for her limbs. And as the time for her delivery draws near, the pain becomes so great that her hips seem to be torn in two and stripped from her body, and her eyes start as though they would fly out of her head up into the heavens.

Once she has succeeded in giving birth to this enemy who has caused her such pain, one might suppose that she would fling it to the ground, tear open its belly, and toss it aside. But such, of course, is not the case. On the contrary, she forbears to think of her own pain, but hastens to take the child in her arms, wipes away the blood, washes off the unclean matter, and clasps it to her breast, and for a period of three years assiduously nourishes it.

During this period the child consumes 180 koku, three shō and five gō³ of the mother’s milk. In truth, even one gō of such milk is as　precious in value as an entire major world system. And what is the value of one shō of this milk? In terms of rice, it is the equivalent of 11,850 koku and five shō; in terms of rice plants, more than 21,700 sheaves; in terms of cloth, 3,370 rolls. How great, then, must be the worth of 180 koku, three shō and five gō of such milk!

If we were to steal so much as one coin or one gō of rice from another person, then we would end up in prison. And yet a mother may put forth the kind of nourishment I have described for ten children, but those children may fail to look after their only mother. A wife may embrace and warm the body of her husband, but there is no wife to warm the chilled legs of a mother.

The golden pheasant of Jetavana Monastery⁴ flew into the fire in an attempt to save its offspring. But Lady Kaushika,⁵ because of something her husband did, brought about the death of her own father. The Buddha said, “Fathers and mothers constantly think of their children, but children do not think of their fathers and mothers.” And King Bimbisāra said, “The father thinks of his child but the child does not think of its father.”⁶ They had incidents such as this in mind when they made these statements.

Even though one may wait upon one’s parents with filial devotion during their present lifetime, there are few persons who think what will become of their parents in their next existence. Thus, while one’s mother is still living, though one may not be greatly concerned about her, one will go to visit her once a month or once a year. But after she has died, one will pay respects to her memory only for the first or second seven-day period, or at most up through the beginning of the third year, and this only in a perfunctory manner and because other people are watching. But no one would think to keep up the observances for a period of thirteen years, some four thousand or more days [as you have].

While the mother is living, even a day or an hour away from her offspring seems as long as a thousand or ten thousand days. After her death, then, how long must thirteen years, four thousand or more days, seem to her, when she hears not the slightest word from her offspring! How she must long for some news of the living!

The Classic of Filial Piety, one of the non-Buddhist classics, merely teaches one how to take care of one’s parents with filial devotion during their present lifetime. It says nothing about what to do concerning their next existence. This is like healing the ills of the body but doing nothing to relieve the sorrows of the mind. Similarly, the more than five thousand volumes of Buddhist scriptures [preached before the Lotus Sutra] tell one how to enter the realms of human or heavenly beings, or the two vehicles of voice-hearers and cause-awakened ones, but they do not lead one on the path to Buddhahood.